Install Theme

Your web-browser is very outdated, and as such, this website may not display properly. Please consider upgrading to a modern, faster and more secure browser. Click here to do so.

I think we spent a past life together

Posts tagged teen wolf

Mar 25 '14
Jan 17 '14

(Source: arden-cho)

Nov 15 '13

tacoposey:

alright now everyone write me fics where derek is derek morgan and stiles is his garcia k thanks

Nov 10 '13

emartsandcrafts:

i started watching teen wolf for abs and funny werewolves

and now im crying and knee deep in sterek ausimage

Nov 10 '13

Teen Wolf AU: In which Derek Hale is a cop who keeps arresting Stiles.

It’s not like Stiles keeps misbehaving and getting arrested on purpose. Okay, yeah, no, he totally is. Who can blame a guy for having a thing for illegaly hot men in uniforms? No one, that’s who.
Stiles isn’t entirely sure he’ll ever be able to look his Dad in the eye again (not because of his rapidly growing record, but because of the naughty thoughts that enter his mind as soon as he sees someone in a police uniform nowadays, and that’s just traumatising considering his Dad is a Sheriff) but right now Stiles is too preoccupied with his pent up sexual frustration to pay much heed to his guilty conscience.
Because Officer Hale is Hot. Capital letters Hot. Smoking. Drop-dead gorgeous. And worth every minute he spends in a cell.
He swears, it was perfectly innocent when it started. He was perfectly innocent back then, or at least almost; Scott had been the one to drag him to a frat party, ignoring Stiles’ earlier protests that he needed to study, and then….well, they’d gotten drunk. As one does. With fake-IDs. Bad fake IDs, which Hale probably could’ve spotted a mile away. 
That’s why Hale took him to the station the first time. Stiles didn’t mind so much, after he’d been done freaking out about what his Dad would think (the alcohol helped not caring too much).
And then it just…kept happening. Stiles doesn’t misbehave more than any other college student. He gets drunk, he gets high occasionally, he goes skinny dipping. No biggie. Nothing major. It’s just, unlike the others, he keeps getting caught. Maybe because he wants to. 
Or possibly because Hale is keeping a particularly close eye on his shenanigans. It is sort of suspicious, how he’s always there when Stiles gets arrested, how he’s always the one to handcuff him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Hale got off on it.
Oh, scratch that, they both definitely get off on it.

(Source: dylanships)

Nov 8 '13

archivebriecheesiearchive:

thatmcbastard:

Sterek Au: the Hale family runs a circus! Peter’s the crazy ring master, Stiles is an aerialist who is much more graceful in the air than on his feet on solid ground, and Derek has some kind of act involving - you guessed it - wolves. 

Stiles has never been fond of the ground. Tile, asphalt, cement, wood. Anything solid beneath his feet feels alien and limiting, claustrophobic in a way that the air could never be. He’s terrified of falling, of landing wrong and being stuck fighting gravity for as long as he lives, flying a distant memory that aches with each broken bone.

He makes sure every move is perfect, every leap flawlessly executed, because if he drops and it’s his last, he wants to know there was nothing he could have done. He wants to know the soul-crushing anger won’t be directed at himself.

When he meets Derek, “The Wolfman”, he laughs at first, stumbles as he goes to shake Derek’s hand, because that’s what gravity does to him. They end up sharing practice space, because Peter can’t fit him in another time slot; Stiles doesn’t really need the bottom-half of the tent anyway.

It’s not hard, they mostly keep to themselves. But the knowledge that there are wolves circling below only serves to strengthen his fear of falling. He makes everything tighter, sharper. If he falls and they attack, if his bones are cracked from teeth instead of impact with the ground, it won’t be his fault. 

Stiles does fall and it’s on a Wednesday, after a week of watching Derek take care of one the younger wolves who gets sick. He’s on the ground already, but he still falls, staring at Derek, at the bags under Derek’s eyes, as he forgoes sleep yet again to nurse little Isaac back to health.

Stiles takes solace in the fact that there was nothing he could have done to have prevented it.

WE NEED MORE OF THIS OMG!

Nov 7 '13

corastilinski:

But are these the same shirt

It’s hard to tell, they could just be really similar plaid

But it looks like the same shirt

Ok, I don’t think it’s the same shirt (they’re close but not the same), but can we just imagine for a second: Stiles and Jackson sharing clothes.

Stiles and Jackson hate sex, Stiles and Jackson accidentally swapping shirts, Stiles and Jackson sitting in class with the scent of each other all over their clothes, and it’s unbearable because Stiles smells so much like home to Jackson. And Jackson smells so much like sex to Stiles.

It’s Jackson that falls first, and it’s such a surprise, because, seriously? Stiles is a twerp, a pain in Jackson’s fuckin’ neck; how could he fall for such a smart aleck? But Stiles is home. Stiles is unchanging, Stiles is comfortable. And screw that sarcastic little fuck, but he worms his way in deep and he’s got this pair of claws on him, sunken all the way into Jackson’s heart.

Stiles is something that Jackson can call his own.

And Jackson is the most frustrating person in all of Beacon Hills, Stiles knows this for certain. 137%, Jackson Whittemore is the bane of his existence.

Jackson Whittemore is the asshole of his life.

Jackson Whittemore won’t top anyone else there, not ever, not with his stupidly perfect, chiseled jawline. Not with his penis-car Porche. Stiles doesn’t know why he even drives it, it’s not like Jackson has to compensate.

Stiles doesn’t have to compensate, either. Jackson will never tell.

So when their free period comes and Jackson is slamming Stiles up against cold metal in the Boys’ locker room, Stiles doesn’t shout for an adult. Stiles bites his bottom lip as his breath hitches in his throat, Jackson’s swimmer’s physique causing the bottom of Stiles’ stomach to tremble with desire.

"I hate you, Stilinski," Jackson breathes against the shell of Stiles’ ear through clenched teeth, his grip so firm that Stiles thinks he’s going to bruise like a Georgia Peach by the end of the day.

"Screw you too, Jackson," Stiles pants and struggles against Jackson’s grip, but it’s useless. He’s not trying very hard.

And then Jackson kisses Stiles hard on the mouth, swallowing his breath, all tongue and teeth and hormones. Stiles’ stomach does 1,000 somersaults, a choked moan escaping his throat as one hand finds its way to Jackson’s hair, taking a fistful. Like a magnet, he presses his pelvis up against Jackson’s, begging for more contact between their bodies.

Jackson lifts him up, spreading Stiles’ legs to he can nestle between them as he pushes more firmly against the lockers. Inside his jeans he’s rock-hard, bulging, and it’s sort of painful but he ignores it in favor of gripping Stiles’ thigh tight in one hand. Stiles does what’s expected of him, and keeps his legs wrapped around Jackson’s waist. The heat pooling between them is rising quickly, and it’s becoming unbearable.

"Happy to see me today?" Stiles teases as he breaks the kiss, because he can feel Jackson hot and firm against his leg, even through both of their jeans.

Jackson lets out a frustrated growl because he swears to God if Stiles doesn’t stop making comments like that, he’s going to beat the kid to a pulp.

Fuck, Stiles gets him so hard.

No one ever stands up to him, no one ever has the gall to say a damn word. Except maybe for Danny, but Danny has always been with Jackson, and that’s always been their dynamic. Stiles is different. Stiles tests Jackson’s every fucking nerve, every last cell in his body. The more you tell Stiles to stop, the more Stiles pushes.

Stiles drives Jackson wildly out of his mind.

And Stiles knows it.

So they fuck. They fuck and they swear and they call each other names, and then they fuck some more. They fuck until Jackson is exhausted, until he’s got his forehead pressed flush to Stiles’ shoulder blade, the younger boy quivering beneath him. They fuck until they’re all searing skin, pink and raw and stuck together with all their sweat, salted to the bone and shuddering into recovery.

Stile laughs at Jackson. Jackson wants to punch him in the head, but he doesn’t, because even though Stiles is laughing, all Jackson wants to do is kiss him on the mouth again, shut him up with copious amounts of tongue. And when he does, Stiles just grins into it because he alone has tamed the self-proclaimed King, the star of the school, Lacrosse Captain Jackson Whittemore.

Stiles will goad Jackson about it, just to get another kiss. Just to get another fuck.

Jackson will let him, just to get closer. Just to get another moment alone with the boy who will test him until the end of time.

It’s Jackson that falls first. And it’s a surprise.

(Source: halekings)

Nov 5 '13
obrozey:

teen wolf medieval au

WANT!

obrozey:

teen wolf medieval au

WANT!

Nov 2 '13

(Source: stereksextape)

Oct 30 '13

"maybe I cannot stop the downpour, but I will always, always join you for a walk in the rain"

(Source: herzdieb)